


i found love (where it wasn't supposed to be)

by orkestrations



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Bisexual Female Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Life Partners, The whole bundle of content warnings that come with Klaus as a character, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orkestrations/pseuds/orkestrations
Summary: Klaus is 22 when he curls up next to a dumpster and finds someone like him.He doesn't find out how much she's like him, though, until later.(title from I Found by Amber Run)
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 77





	1. "wanna share my dumpster?"

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: drugs; alcohol; intoxication; references to domestic abuse; references to prostitution; homelessness; references to sexual violence

Klaus doesn’t think much of the girl in the alley when he stumbles past her, his head pounding in time to the pounding of the bass that he can still hear, drifting out from the club. Klaus doesn’t think much of her when he stumbles to a stop and all but collapses next to the dumpster. It cuts the wind, at least, but Klaus can still feel the promise of rain and cold and the threat of sickness that comes along with it.

He still doesn’t think much of the girl, other than that she looks small, where she’s curled up, her head tucked into her arms.

“Klaus.” Oh, and there’s Ben, back to his ever-present annoyingness. “Klaus, come on. You can’t just stop here, not tonight.”

Klaus _knows_ that. He’s not _stupid_. He doesn’t bother giving Ben a response, though, because this is where he’s crashed and he’s going to stay here until he’s damn good and ready to get up.

He thinks he can hear Ben sigh.

The girl is still there, her shoulders shaking. She hasn’t said a word, and Klaus takes a closer look, through the haze of alcohol and weed and the trailing edges of _whatever_ those pills had been.

Her dark hair is a mess. It’s falling out of the braid, into her face, and is lank with sweat and grease and sticky with… something, maybe alcohol, but who knows. Her clothes are a mess, too, like they’d been thrown on in a hurry, and he caught sight of a dark bruise on the one wrist he could see.

There were probably bruises in other places, too.

He stares at her for a while. She’s sitting in the wind, he realizes, watching as it blew the free bits of hair and tugged at her clothes.

“Hey,” he tries to say, but it barely leaves his throat, so he clears it and tries again. “Hey.”

She glances up and—oh. Her left eye is swollen, a bruise darkening around it.

“What do you want?” Her voice is flat with a tremor underneath.

“You look like shit,” Klaus replies. “Wanna share my dumpster?”

Her expression, which had been heading towards glaring territory, softens back out to something more like surprise. “What?”

“Windbreak,” Klaus says, jerking his chin in the direction of the dumpster.

“I…” She blinks, once, twice, in quick succession, and then shakes her head.

“Suit yourself.” Klaus shrugs and leans back against the wall. The brick is cold, and he can feel it sucking away at his meagre body heat, but can’t find it in himself to care.

The two of them sit in that alley for a while, listening to cars driving by, people walking past, drunken or high idiots stumbling out of the club. At one point, it looks like a couple’s about to fuck right then and there in that alleyway, at least until they notice the two junkies curled up in the shadows.

They sit there, and then the girl spoke again.

“Is the offer still open?”

“The what?”

“The dumpster,” she clarifies, and realization cuts through the haze in Klaus’ mind.

“Yeah! Of course it is,” he replies.

She stands. It’s a slow process as she nurses aching bones, and then she limps over to his side of the alley. She turns, puts her back on the wall, and then slides down it, sitting a good foot away from Klaus.

“You can get closer, y’know. Warmer if we share body heat.”

She shakes her head.

She probably doesn’t trust men much, at the moment, and Klaus can’t say he blames her.

Ben is silent through this whole exchange, but Klaus can still feel his presence. He glances up at the ghost perched on the dumpster, looking from the corners of his eyes, and Ben looks down at him, returning the look.

He doesn’t look… judgmental, not really, which is good. It’s… good. It’s an improvement, at least. Oh, Klaus can still _feel_ the judgment, he’ll _never_ not disappoint his brother, but Ben’s getting better at hiding it.

Instead, he just looks… concerned. And a bit curious. “What are you doing?”

“She looked lonely,” Klaus replies, his words slurring together.

“What?” she asks, and he looks over at her. “What did you say?”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” he says. Maybe she’ll think he’s crazy (they all do), maybe that’ll scare her, that he talks to people that she can’t see and that she doesn’t think exist (they all do).

“Oh,” she just says.

And then…

“Well, who, then?”

Klaus blinks, and glances between her and Ben. Nobody ever cares to ask that, not anymore, not since—

Not since Ben’s death, he thinks, or maybe it was earlier than that. Maybe no one had asked him that since Five’s disappearance, since he started drinking and smoking and drugs to shut up the ghosts only he could see. Maybe no one had asked him since the mausoleum, since he lost what little bit of control he had.

Does he answer her?

“Why do you care,” he asks instead.

“I’m just asking,” she mutters, glaring at him.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Ben agrees.

Klaus sighs and adjusts position so he can bury his face in his knees and watch from the corners of his eyes. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh,” the girl says. She looks up, towards a good approximation of Ben’s position, and waves with her fingers. “Hi.”

Klaus frowns, but he says nothing. After a few minutes, she starts scooting closer, in tiny increments, like maybe if she goes about it slow enough, he won’t notice that she’s doing anything.

He doesn’t respond. Let her think she’s being sneaky, it won’t hurt anything.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier,” Ben says.

“Didn’t think you were.”

“You need to find someplace to shelter tonight. _Both_ of you do.”

Ben’s right, of course. Ben’s _always_ right, whether or not Klaus wants to admit it.

Ben’s become very wise in the years since his death.

Or maybe he was always wise.

Maybe he got the brain cells after Five’s disappearance.

If that was the case, who has the brain cells now? Definitely not Klaus.

…It’s probably Allison. Or maybe Vanya, but Klaus has no idea about what Vanya’s doing and he sees Allison’s face on the news, in movies, on the tabloids, and it seems like she’s doing well for herself, so yeah, she’s probably the one with custody of the Hargreeves siblings’ brain cells.

He’s jerked from his thoughts as the girl covers the last of the ground in one small shift and curls up against his side.

And they both sit there, both drunk and high and both probably freshly fucked (Klaus can only really speak for himself on that last one, but there’s enough clues on her that he feels confident in that guess).

“Come on, Klaus,” Ben speaks again. “You probably earned enough to afford a motel room for a night or two. It’s going to get cold tonight, and it’s going to rain, and both of you need shelter.”

Klaus whines. “I knooow.”

“What is it?” she asks.

“He’s _nagging_ me,” Klaus replies, leaning his head on her shoulder. “About shelter.”

A cop car goes by on the street, lights and sirens on.

“…Yeah. He’s probably right. It’s… cold,” she says, looking up.

“It’s going to rain,” Klaus says.

“I… might have enough for a hotel room,” she says, looking over at him with wide, dark eyes.

“Me too,” he replies. “We could… We could even…”

He breaks off laughing, a broken little half-chuckle.

“He’s going to be so annoying about _eating_ ,” he says. “If there’s _spare money_.”

Ben’s voice is dry. “You know me so well.”

“Eating’s… kind of important,” the girl agrees. “We could get… food _and_ shelter.”

“God,” Klaus sighs, slumping against the bricks. “Food _and_ shelter, what decadence. Let’s do it.”

And so the two of them struggle to their feet, helping each other, bracing against the wall, all while Ben watches from his perch on the dumpster.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and the girl wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: drugs (like seriously I talk about drugs a lot in this), domestic abuse (mentioned, aftereffects), knives (an X-ACTO knife is used), homophobia (mentioned), transphobia (mentioned), racism (mentioned)
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not an addict, but I'm trying my best to research and not be a dick about my portrayal of characters who are. If I'm insensitive about something, please let me know

Together, they have enough money for a motel room. Hell, they probably have enough for two or three nights.

But they only get one, and then they open the door and walk into the room and both collapse onto the nearest bed, dropping into a pile of shaking limbs. It doesn’t matter that they had met a few hours ago for the first time, that they don’t even know each other’s name. They’re in a room, and there’s a bed, and they’re both cold and aching and definitely in need of some friendly touch (again, Klaus can only speak for himself, but he’s good at putting clues together).

So they both fall into bed, wrap the blankets around themselves, and pass out.

In the morning, Klaus wakes to a shaft of sunlight illuminating the room, sneaking in through a gap between the curtains. It falls across his legs, across the blanket with the terrible floral pattern, and it’s enough to get a better glimpse of the girl he’d… cuddled with?... Last night.

Her hair is red, and quite a bit lighter than he’d originally thought it was underneath all that grime. There’s a dusting of freckles over her face and her black eye from the night before stood out against her fair skin.

They are both just as filthy and disgusting as they’d been the night before, and he makes it a priority in his head to make sure that they shower, at least, before they inevitably part ways, never to see each other again. Ben echoes his thoughts out loud, and Klaus nods almost absent-mindedly as he mentally takes stock of his own aches and pains. There’s nothing unusual, just bruises and maybe a sprained wrist, and of course the ever-present itch of the impending withdrawal.

And, of course, at some point the non-Ben ghosts would begin showing up.

Luckily, he has enough morphine tablets to last him a couple weeks until he needs to find his dealer again, longer if he’s smart about it and supplements with weed. He also has a few tablets of chlordiazepoxide to help ease the alcohol withdrawal symptoms. There may also be some leftover ketamine and MDMA, but at this point, who knows. He sure doesn’t, at least, not until he goes looking.

His whole supply is squirreled away in various secret pockets in his jacket, which only he and Ben currently know the locations of. It’s not like Ben could tell anyone, and like hell would Klaus be letting anyone else have his fix (although he could be talked out of the MDMA, assuming he still had any).

A soft sound yanks him out of his thoughts, and he glances over at the girl, whose face is now twisting into a grimace.

“It looks like she’s having a nightmare,” Ben says, and despite his lack of physical presence, Klaus can feel his presence as he looks over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you’d be the expert on what people look like when they’re having those,” Klaus mutters back.

He watches as her face twitches again, and wonders. What does he do? It’s not like he’s ever had to wake anyone ~~except Ben~~ from a nightmare before.

“Hey,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t know her name, he realizes, a more active thought than it had been before. “Hey. Red.”

“Klaus,” Ben says, using that ‘I have important information I feel like I should let you know before you ultimately decide to do the reckless thing anyways’, so Klaus turns and looks over his shoulder at where Ben’s standing, leaning against the wall. “You shouldn’t actually wake up people who are having nightmares.”

Klaus blinks. “Oh.” He turns back to Red, whose expression is already starting to smooth out again. “Is that so.”

As she sinks back into peaceful sleep, Klaus slips out of bed, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back and shoulders. Sighing, he lets his arms drop and finishes his journey to the bathroom, locking the door behind him as he reaches back to one of his secret pockets and pulls out a couple of tiny bags, each containing only a few pills. Along with the bags comes a retractable X-ACTO knife. He unsheathes the blade and sets it to the side as he shakes out a single tablet from one bag.

See, he’s not an _idiot_ (okay, that’s debatable). He _knows_ how his drugs of choice interact, and overdosing isn’t exactly pleasant (and generally leads to interactions with his family, which usually go just about as well as his drugs’ interactions do).

So, he only takes half a tablet of the chlordiazepoxide and then waits a few hours before taking the morphine. Maybe that’s reducing the risks, maybe it’s not, but whatever. He’s trying. Kind of.

Anyways, he has a pill to split, a shower to take, and clothes to wash. It’s a shame he didn’t manage to pick his bag up from Valerie and Tia’s the night before (Valerie and Tia being a couple of _wonderful_ lesbians who let him crash at their place for weeks at a time in exchange for helping out with chores and occasionally sharing his drugs, and who can be trusted to watch his stuff when he goes to work).

(They’re probably worried that he hasn’t swung by yet, although sometimes it can be days before he can manage to get back for his stuff. Whatever. It’ll be safe there.)

So. He uses the knife to cut the chlordiazepoxide in half and puts half of it back in the bag it came from and takes the other half dry. The knife gets sheathed, and along with the drugs, stowed back in the pocket they came from.

With that done, he strips and turns on the shower. He leaves the coat on the tank of the toilet, within eyesight, while he empties the pockets of his pants (mascara, eyeliner, black lipstick, a couple dollars, the slip of paper with his emergency contacts _~~DiegoVanya~~_ on it that he keeps carrying despite knowing that they’d probably rather not be the ones called when he’s drunk or high or fucked out of his mind. Tia and Valerie had insisted on being added at one point, but they understand. They don’t give him the same judgmental looks that his siblings do).

The water’s hot now, so he steps in, letting the heat wash over him as he closes his eyes and sinks into that warm, safe spot in his mind. Lots of people think in the shower—he doesn’t. He just washes his hair, washes the sweat and other things off his body, and then spends a while just… existing. His clothes are soaking in the sink, and he still has to finish washing them, and at some point Ben will start nagging at him to go eat something, as if Klaus is _ever_ hungry for anything but drugs.

Okay, maybe he _does_ think in the shower, some. But that’s just how brains are!

“Red’s waking up,” Ben says, his voice cutting through the noise of the shower and Klaus’ thoughts. Klaus doesn’t reply, and Ben probably doesn’t stick around in the bathroom long enough to hear one, even if he did.

Klaus wants nothing more than to stay in the shower forever, which is, quite frankly, impractical, and besides, Red’s waking up. She’ll probably want a shower, too, and to wash her own clothes (maybe).

So he shuts the water off and steps out, toweling off with as much vigor as he can drum up before wrapping the same towel around his waist and spending a few minutes scrubbing his clothes in the sink before draining it. He puts his coat on and wrings as much water out of his clothes as he can before balling them up and leaving the bathroom, flicking on the fan as he goes.

Red is awake, sitting up, curled around her knees again with her back to the headboard.

She’s crying again.

“Hey, good morning,” he says as he walks over to the heater. He drags the chair over so he can hang his pants (black skinny jeans, no holes yet) and shirt (long-sleeved, bright pink, would be skintight if he was at something approximating a healthy weight) over it in front of the heater while draping his socks and underwear over the heater itself. “The shower’s open, if you want one. And, I’m just realizing,” he says, despite realizing this an hour earlier, “we don’t know each other’s names yet. I’m Klaus.”

“I’m Cass,” she manages through her tears. She looks up and gives him a half a smile. “Our names are ridiculously similar.”

“Well, baby, maybe it was meant to be,” he jokes, winking over his shoulder at her and sitting down on the other bed, leaning against the headboard. She doesn’t make any move to get up, so neither does he, and the room falls quiet.

“Ask her why she was crying,” Ben suggests, and Klaus glances over to decipher his expression. It’s that… that kind of concerned, hopeful one, with the wide eyes. Like he thinks that, if Klaus takes his advice right now, something good might come from it.

Okay, well, he’s been having an absurdly good morning so far, so he’ll bite. It’ll probably just break whatever fragile connection that Klaus and Cass have formed and destroy that little shred of hope but, well.

Klaus may be getting _better_ at ignoring Ben’s puppy dog eyes, but he’s not immune _yet_.

“So, why were you crying?” he asks. “Not that you need to feel any need to tell me, or anything, which you don’t, have to tell me, that is.” Oof. Ouch. That could’ve been better. “I just…” he’d like to know? He’s just curious? “Just wondering, yeah.”

Cass sighs, and Klaus watches her from the corners of his eyes.

“My boyfriend—fuckbuddy? God, I don’t know—well, he kicked me out last night. He didn’t let me take anything with me, so he has all my shit still. I’m lucky he let me take my _coat_.” She shakes her head, sniffling. “I have… I have _nothing_. Other than a shit ton of bruises and some new trauma. You know.” She snorts. “The usual.”

Klaus snorts, too. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I know.” And, before he can really think about it, he continues: “There’s a couple I know. I stay with them sometimes. I could ask them if they’d mind having two drop-ins this time. They’re safe, and they’ll let us stay as long as we do chores and stuff. If we stay longer than two weeks, though, they start charging rent, just a warning.”

“…I’ll think about it,” she replies. She uses her hands to push herself to the edge of the bed and stands up, swaying a bit before finding her balance. “I think I’ll take that shower, now.”

“Wash your clothes, too,” Klaus suggests, and then a thought crosses his mind. “I have some makeup and shit from my pants in there, don’t mess with it.”

“Alright,” she says, closing the bathroom door behind herself.

The time she spends in the shower gives Klaus plenty of time to think (and talk to Ben). Check-out is at noon, which is dragging steadily closer. Cass has nothing but the clothes on her back (lucky her coat had her money—does it have her next fix, too, or is he going to have to deal with her going into withdrawal with nothing to take?) and she’s almost certainly coming out of an abusive relationship.

And despite every bit of logic telling him to drop her now, that she was going to be too much trouble to deal with, to take with him, he couldn’t listen to that bit of himself. Especially not with the way Ben was looking at him.

“Augh, why am I letting you talk me into this,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

“I’m not talking you into anything,” Ben replies, his voice flavored with amusement.

“You make a convenient scapegoat, though.”

Maybe it’s the way she reacted last night when he talked to Ben. She didn’t call him crazy, she didn’t freak out, she even… said hi? So, well, maybe that has something to do with why he can’t just leave her to drown.

The shower shuts off and Klaus opens his eyes again. He stands, walks over to the heater despite the sudden vertigo, and checks his clothes. They’re mostly dry, definitely dry enough for his standards, and he’s dressed again when Cass walks out, towel around her waist and coat zipped up.

“So,” he says as she walks over to the heater, “I was thinking—”

“Novel concept.”

“Shut up,” he hisses to Ben, glaring at him for the briefest second before turning back to Cass. “While you were in the shower. When you said you had… nothing, did that include your next fix? Because withdrawal’s a bitch to deal with.”

Cass snorts and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “It is. And… that ‘nothing’ does include my next fix, yes.” She doesn’t look at him, staring at her clothes.

“Oh, well, that’s shit luck,” he says. “What do you take? Because, uh, I’d rather not have you go into benzo or alcohol withdrawal and die without at least _some_ forewarning.”

She snorts again, shaking her head. “Benzos no, alcohol yes. I have enough money to buy some shitty booze, though, so don’t worry about it.”

“Ah-ah,” Klaus says, holding up a finger. “I thought we agreed on eating. Last night. You know. The height of decadence.”

Cass turns and looks at him over her shoulder, a single eyebrow raised. She looks a lot better after her shower, even with the black eye and the split lip. Klaus widens his eyes and draws his eyebrows ever-so-slightly upward, and yes! It works! She groans and nods.

“Alright, fine,” she says. “And…” he can feel her hesitance. “Your friends? They… they’ll let me stay?”

“Yeah, probably, as long as you’re not homophobic or transphobic or racist or gonna steal their stuff,” Klaus replies.

“If I was going to steal something, I wouldn’t just come out and admit it,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But, well, I’m bi, so homophobia would be a little hypocritical from me, and I try my best not to be transphobic or racist.”

Ooh, well, that’s good,” Klaus replies, picking up the phone. “Because these friends are pretty fucking gay. Tia and Valerie have helped me out a _lot_ , over the years.” He dials their number and waits.

Someone picks up after a few rings. “ _Hello?_ ”

“Ah, Tia, lovely sweet Tia—”

“ _Hey Klaus. You don’t usually call unless you need picked up._ ”

“Well, I don’t need picked up, but I _do_ have a favor to ask and it possibly includes letting someone besides me crashing on your couch.”

Tia groans. “ _You’re responsible for them, you hear? If they steal anything,_ you’re _the one replacing it._ ”

“Of course. I understand.”

“ _You guys coming tonight?_ ”

“Yeah. If that—if that’s okay?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll let Valerie know. Glad to hear you’re okay. See you tonight._ ”

Without fanfare, she hangs up, and Klaus sets the phone down.

“We have a place to stay tonight!” he says, throwing his hands up and doing a little shimmy. Ben laughs and rolls his eyes, while Cass smiles, her previous snark softening.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Don’t thank me, thank Tia and Valerie,” he says.

“No, Klaus,” she says, reaching over and snagging his forearm and snapping his attention to her. “ _Thank you_.”

“Uh,” he says, glancing for half a second at her eyes before his own are skittering off to look elsewhere, anywhere but making contact. “Yeah. I. Uh. Of course.”

That seems to be what she’s looking for, and she releases his arm, sitting down on the bed they’d slept in together the night before.

Some light, low-stakes conversation passes between them. The kind where they share favorite foods and their favorite spots to just… hang out and exist (they both agree on libraries in the winter, that one really big park downtown in summer), she talks about the cats her family had growing up.

This lasts until her clothes are acceptably dry, and she changes while Klaus slips into the bathroom to put the contents of his pants pockets back into the pockets they belonged in. Then they both leave together, leaving the room keys on the table as they leave with nothing but what they’re wearing, the same way they entered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave a kudos, and if you feel up to it, comment! I enjoy talking to people who read my stuff :)  
> With love,  
> Kestrel Daniel  
> (they/them, he/him, fae/faer)  
> (catch me on tumblr [@orkestrations](orkestrations.tumblr.com)


	3. Allusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus, Cass, and Ben have brunch. They're all comedians, the lot of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: drugs (mentioned), homelessness, mild paranoia and anxiety (mentioned), child abuse (mentioned), domestic abuse (implied), stalking (mentioned), Christianity (mentioned), church (mentioned), suicide (implied very gently)

They meander their way to a nearby diner with all the grace of two drunk seagulls, but at least they make it there, and in one piece, too. They slide into a booth together, sitting across from each other, and Ben slots himself in the empty space to Klaus’ left just as easily as he always does. They’re intentionally situated so Klaus can see all the exits and entrances.

Yeah, some anxieties are there for eternity.

“Oh, honey, your hair looks so nice this morning,” the waitress who brings them their menus has dark skin and her own hair is done up in Bantu knots.

“Thanks, Amelie,” Cass replies, smiling up at the waitress. “Yours looks nice, too.”

Amelie smiles at Cass, a flash of bright white against her lips which were stained a deep wine red. “Do you need some time to decide?” She addresses Klaus, mostly, with this question.

“Waffles,” he replies, not even looking at the menu. “And hot cocoa. Please.” It’s not often he splurges on diner hot cocoa, but what the hell. Why not.

“Okay,” Amelie says, writing on her notepad. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

“Sausage or bacon?”

Klaus suppresses a horrible joke in order to reply with “bacon, please”. He couldn’t scare off someone who looked like she might be Cass’s friend.

“Whole wheat or white for your toast?”

“Wheat.”

She finishes scribbling down Klaus’ order and turns to Cass. “Your usual?”

“Yes, please,” Cass replies.

Amelie scribbles something down and smiles once again. The warmth she directs at Cass is almost overwhelming.

“It’ll be right up,” she said before turning on a heel and heading back to the bar to give their order to the cooks, and Klaus glances at Ben, who raises his eyebrows and nods in Cass’s direction. Okay. No speculating about Amelie, just asking, then, alright.

“So. You’re a regular here, hm?” he asks, putting his right elbow on the table and cradling his cheek in his hand.

“Yeah,” Cass replies, shrugging and glancing over towards Amelie, who’s taking an older couple their food. “The food’s good. The staff’s nice. They’ll let me have any extra food or messed-up orders or whatever if they see me out back.”

“They do that for any old homeless junkie, or just you?” he raises an eyebrow at her, and she blushes and sinks in her seat.

“It’s because I know Amelie,” she says, shrugging. “We were… in a few classes together, in university. She’s… nice.”

There’s many ways Klaus can interpret that statement. He settles for his standard response, keeping some of those interpretations squirreled away for later.

“Ooh,” he drops his voice to a whisper and leans forward, eyes wide. “Do you have a crush?”

“Maybe!” she hisses back, glaring at him. He laughs and leans back, letting himself start to relax against the seat. Cass takes a moment to continue. “She’s… reasonable. She doesn’t… pretend like I don’t exist, and she doesn’t give me the pity looks.”

“Ah, I know the ones,” he agrees. “Thankfully, I only get them from one sibling.” His eyes flick to the side, where Ben is looking at him with exaggerated betrayal, making a ‘what about me?’ gesture with his arms. “One and a half,” Klaus amends, and Ben rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“And a half,” he mutters. “I’m only half a sibling now?”

“You only give them to me half of the time,” Klaus hisses back.

Cass, who had probably been starting to say something when Ben was talking to him, restarts her words.

“Tell me about your siblings?” she asks, and then shrugs. “If you want to.”

“Well,” Klaus says, and he is saved from having to continue when Amelie returns with their drinks.

“Here you are,” she says, setting hot chocolate in front of Klaus and orange juice in front of Cass. “Your food will be out in just a few minutes.”

“Danke schön,” he replies, smiling at her and taking a sip of his hot chocolate. Ah, yes, the same vaguely water-flavored diner drink he craved.

“Bitte,” Amelie replied, her lips twitching into a playful smirk as she turned and left.

“Oooh, I think she _likes_ me,” Klaus murmurs, sideways, directed for Ben. Ben snorts, and across the table, Cass rolls her eyes.

“You’re a man and you’re around me,” she says. “She’s just playing nice. Anyways, siblings?”

“Well.” Klaus chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Sure. But only if you tell me about your family. Fair is fair, after all.”

“Sure,” she replies, leaning back. “I have three moms. Originally, I had a mom and a dad, but then my dad was actually a mom, and then they met a really cute librarian when I was, like, nine? Ten? And so I have three moms. I have one older brother, two younger sisters, plus another two brothers. Half of us are adopted. I was an… unexpected, but welcome baby.”

Klaus pauses a moment as he processes, and then speaks. “Now that is just downright wholesome. I apologize ahead of time. My family kind of sucks.”

Cass smiles. It’s soft. “That’s okay,” she says. “You don’t have to apologize for the people you grew up with.”

Klaus files that nugget away for processing at a later date as he continues. “Well. Me and all my siblings were adopted, and it was a classic case of some rich ass getting custody because he had money when, really, he shouldn’t’ve been allowed within five hundred miles of a child. So,” Klaus pauses, shifts, glances at Ben, who nods. It feels like encouragement.

It’s probably encouragement.

“So,” Klaus repeats, “this guy basically buys seven children. Well, out of those seven, there’s me, and you can see how well I turned out. Then there’s Ben, who died because our dad’s negligence. There’s our brother, we called him Five because he hated his name and he was the fifth one of us adopted, ergo, Five, and he ran away when we were barely teenagers and subsequently vanished off the face of the Earth.”

“Oof,” Cass says, shaking her head. “Can I just, like, can I get rid of your dad?”

“That’s probably a crime and, knowing the irony of the universe, it would probably be my brother arresting you, so, no, although I appreciate the thought, really, I do.” Klaus shrugs. “Yeah. One of my brothers, Diego, decided he was gonna be a _cop_. I have _no_ idea what was going on in his head, or what still is, to be honest. I haven’t seen him in… almost three months now, actually.”

“You might have to drop by and let him know you’re still alive?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, and Klaus shrugs again.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t think he likes being around me—”

“That’s not true,” Ben says. Klaus ignores him.

“--so probably not, unless I’m dying and someone calls him, since he’s one of my emergency contacts.”

Cass stays quiet this time, just nodding.

“So that…” Klaus counts on his fingers. “That leaves Vanya, Luther, and Allison. Vanya’s quiet, kinda mousy, plays violin. I think she’s actually in, or just recently graduated from, music school? I don’t know if she’s going to grad school or not, I should probably ask…” he trails off into a mutter, and then shakes his head, jerking himself back to the conversation at hand. “Luther! So, Luther, big guy, really honestly the big brother although the rest of us kind of definitely hated him for it.” Klaus shrugs. “Also dad’s favorite. Definitely no small amount of resentment towards him for that one. And Allison is…”

Klaus pauses. As far as he can tell, Allison is gaining more and more attention in Hollywood, starting to be noticed for her acting rather than for being ‘the only one of those umbrella kids to do anything remotely noteworthy after quitting the superhero gig’.

How does he explain that, though?

“Allison is probably the only one of us with her shit even _remotely_ together,” he finally settles on. “She has a nice smile, is drop-dead gorgeous—”

“Drop dead. Ha-ha.”

“— _shut up_ ,” Klaus hisses, and then turns back to Cass. “Drop-dead gorgeous and charismatic like you _wouldn’t believe_. She’s going to go places, probably the only one of us, other than maybe Vanya, to do so.”

“Sounds like you guys could put the ‘fun’ in ‘dysfunctional’,” Cass says, glancing over to look at Amelie for a few moments. “I’d hate to see the family reunion.”

“You haven’t even told her about the robot mom and chimpanzee butler,” Ben says, his voice completely deadpan (deadpan, ha-ha, get it), and Klaus stifles a snort of laughter with his hand.

“What?” Cass asks, and Klaus shakes his head.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s nothing,” he replies. “So, like, tell me a little more about your siblings? Names, ages, traumas?”

Cass shakes her head. “Not much trauma in our family, thank God. My older brother’s name is Daniel, and he’s… 25, now. Last I knew, he was working on a biochem major with ambitions for the PhD. He’s… probably the one with the most trauma, actually, one of his girlfriend’s exes was a stalker piece of shit who did some nasty, creepy things. I…” she frowns. “I don’t think I ever found out whether he was arrested or not, or if my brother and his girlfriend are okay.”

She shakes herself and keeps going. “Then I’m the second-oldest. My parents weren’t exactly planning on having a second child at that point, but, well, I happened and they were like ‘guess this is a sign from the universe or something’ so they kept me. The next two, James and Tabitha, were also… unplanned, you could say. A girl in the church… her boyfriend left her when he found out she was pregnant, and she and her family weren’t exactly _wealthy_ , so my parents stepped in and helped pay for hospital bills and adopted them. James and Tabby have _four_ moms, lucky idiots.”

“Lucky idiots indeed,” Klaus agrees. He can only imagine what having four Graces (Grace-like beings?) would be like.

“James and Tabby are… eighteen now,” Cass says, her expression growing distant and sad for a moment. “And then there’s—get this—Allison. She’s fifteen now, last I knew she went by Alli exclusively, and she was obsessed with cats like _you would not believe_.”

Klaus chuckles. “What are the odds we _both_ have a sister named Allison?”

“Not very good, probably,” Cass agrees. “And then finally there’s Frankie. He’s ten, and my parents were God-damned cruel when they named him. His full name is actually _Frankincense_.”

The laugh just bursts its way out of Klaus, and the two (three) of them spend several moments laughing at a probably way-too-noticeably-loud level.

“ _Frankincense_? Really?” he asks, practically laying face-down on the table.

“Librarian-mom really wanted to have at least one kid with a really out-there name, and original-moms wanted something that could be shortened to a normal name or nickname, so eventually, they settled on Frankincense. Frankie’s gender-neutral.”

“Oh,” Klaus groans. “ _Frankincense_. Oh, that’s—that’s awesome. And- and I complained about _my_ name being unusual.”

“I know,” Cass grins. “It’s great.”

There’s a pause as Klaus sits back up.

“So,” he says, gesturing at her with his left hand. “Cass? Is that short for anything?”

“Cassowary,” she replies.

Ben and Klaus are both silent as they stare at her, until Klaus breaks it, throwing his hands in the air.

“ _Really_?” he asks, and Cass holds his gaze and nods, looking dead-serious.

At least, until she snorts and then starts laughing, throwing her head back and holding her sides. Klaus, for his part, groans and buries his head in his hands as she laughs herself out.

During this time, Amelie returns, carrying their food. She takes one look at Cass as she sets their food down and then raises her eyebrows at Klaus.

“She told me her name is _Cassowary_ ,” he says, as soon as all the food is on the table and out of dropping danger.

Amelie just snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she always does that, right after she tells you Frankie’s name. There’s no joke she likes more.”

“Hey!” Cass exclaims, pointing at Amelie. She’s panting and out of breath. “There’s the moth joke!”

“Oh,” Amelie says, shaking her head. “How could I forget the moth joke?” She smiles at them. “Enjoy your food.”

“Thanks!” Klaus says as she turns to leave again, and then turns to Cass. “The moth joke?”

Cass’s face lights up, and then, within moments, wilts. “It’s… long, and I can’t remember all the details. I used to be able, to, though, I used to have the whole thing memorized.”

“Hey,” Klaus says, leaning forwards. “It’s okay. Tell me what you remember and just improvise on the rest!”

Cass nods, and then begins speaking. “So, a moth walks into a podiatrist’s office…”

As expected, it’s long, and she trails off in spots, and parts of it are obviously made up in the moment, but it’s just as gold as he was expecting. Ben groans in the seat next to him as Klaus cackles.

“Oh, that’s great!” he says. “I can tell why everyone love-hates it!”

“I know!” Cass agrees, her eyes lighting up again.

“Hey, anyways,” Klaus says, switching subjects on a dime. “Your name. Didn’t quite tell me it. Come on, Cassowary, have at it.”

Cass snorts and rolls her eyes. “Okay,” she says, and then laughs to herself, like she’s telling a private joke in her head. “Cass is short for Cassandra.”

Klaus nods, picking up a slice of toast. “A distinguished name,” he says. “With a tragic history. Have you been so cursed as Cassandra of Troy was, to see the future and be unable to change it?”

There’s something in Cass’s eyes, a deep, life-long hurt, that surfaces as he speaks and he longs to take the words back, to turn back time and swallow them in his throat.

“Maybe so,” she says, turning to her omelet and cutting a bite off with her fork.

There’s little conversation between them for a few minutes as they eat, until Ben, fucking _Ben_ , speaks up.

“Hey Klaus,” he says. “I’m _your_ Cassandra of Troy.”

Klaus groans, drops his fork, and buries his face in his hands.

“Klaus?” Cass asks. “What is it?”

“My—I—” he looks up and shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” Yeah, he told her he was talking to his brother (who she couldn’t see) last night (this morning?) while completely wasted, but that didn’t mean he was going to say that now, in daylight, in the middle of the café, where he barely has half a benzo in him and nothing else.

Cass leans forward. “Is it your brother?” she asks, her voice soft, so soft. “It’s… It’s okay with me, if you… if you see things I can’t. So long as… as long as he’s not telling you to do… anything dangerous.”

“Oh, _god_ ,” Klaus swears, shaking his head and looking away. “God, no, I swear, he’s like, my entire impulse control. The only reason I’m not _dead_ yet.”

“That’s…” Cass pauses, blinks, thinks a little. “That’s good. I… It’s good that you’re alive. Not sure I would’ve survived last night without you.”

“Oh, uh,” Klaus says, blinking, all thoughts struck from his head. “You’re welcome? It’s… good that you survived last night.”

Cass blushes. “Thanks.”

The two living people start eating, and Ben speaks.

“You do realize you’re stuck with her now, right?” he asks. “Because if she leaves and you don’t chase her, I will never let you rest. Never. She’s a keeper. I’ll sing _My Heart Will Go On_ until you go get her.”

“You have a beautiful singing voice, though,” Klaus whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

“ _Not always_ ,” Ben hisses back.

Klaus nods, once, just a dip of his head. Cass keeps glancing at him, but it’s not the ‘oh my God he’s crazy’ stare he was… kind of expecting. “Point taken,” he says, putting another bite of waffle in his mouth. He uses his right hand, under the table but within Ben’s line of sight, to fingerspell “keep her. Got it” to him.

And, if for once, both Ben and Klaus were agreed on what the right course of action in his ~~their~~ adult life was?

Well, that meant it _had_ to be the right course of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not technically a double update if the second one's after midnight  
> i hope you enjoyed, if you did, please leave a kudos, and if you're feeling up to it, a comment! i love hearing from the people who read my stuff  
> also, Cassowary is a joke i've been planning since i named Cass. originally it was going to be a joke Klaus made that stuck, since originally i wasn't planning on having Cass tell him her full first name this quickly (sometimes your characters just get away from you, y'know?), but then i named her little brother Frankincense and well. that was that.  
> also, it's gay, everyone's gay, i'm gay, i make the rules, therefore everyone's gay. you're welcome.  
> (Klaus and Cass are both ADHD and autistic too and no, you can't change my mind)  
> with love,  
> Kestrel Daniel  
> (they/them, he/him, fae/faer)  
> (find me on tumblr [@orkestrations](orkestrations.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> i have thoughts and ideas for this and no clue if i'm ever gonna finish a fic ever in my life but here! have this! please enjoy my self-indulgent OC fic where Klaus gets the support system he needs and maybe possibly _goes to therapy????_  
>  y'all can come find me on tumblr [@orkestrations](orkestrations.tumblr.com)  
> if you enjoyed, please leave a kudos, and please tell me what you thought! i love reading your comments and i can sometimes be very chatty in replies  
> with love,  
> Kestrel Daniel  
> (they/them, he/him, fae/faer)  
> ps this is my first update of 2020! yay?


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